


Under the Moonlight, you Pull Imperfections From the Ground

by dandelionweekes



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M, and i reread it and really liked it, hurt comfort a bit, i wrote this a couple months ago, sad nagito but what's new lmao, sorry if i characterize them wrong, uh fluff ig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionweekes/pseuds/dandelionweekes
Summary: “Stay,” Hinata said firmly as a moment, and under the light of the moon, he could see glittering tracks of tears cascading down Komaeda’s pale skin. He looked like a ghost, then, an apparition unable to cross over into a more peaceful plane of existence, tragic and hurting. His white hair was a messy halo above his head and his pale skin was breathtakingly white. And yet, despite all the clear pain written across every inch of his face, worked into every expression that he made, he smiled and laughed a little.“If it’ll please you,” Komaeda said, his voice thin and airy. He sat back down, placing his hands tentatively on his knees and bowing his head so that his hair fell over his face.-In which Komaeda is focused on his imperfections, and Hinata helps him see past them.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 4
Kudos: 127





	Under the Moonlight, you Pull Imperfections From the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first Danganronpa fic I've ever written. I wrote it a few months ago and looking back on it, I actually really liked it. I'm sorry if I characterize them wrong; I've only seen the anime. I also don't to watch any playthroughs b/c I plan to play it myself once I can spare the money. Hmm....anyway, I really like the characters. Nagito is certainly a comfort character 4 me so......heheh. Enjoy.

The night was cool. Hinata noticed this fact as soon as he stepped out of his cottage and let his bare feet be buried in the lush green grass that was dotted with midnight dew, little drops of shining crystal, little bits of serenity in a place where all they were was a contrast. A juxtaposition. 

The wind blew quietly for a moment, softly and gently, and it placed a few small kisses against Hinata’s skin, leaving him shivering and tugging on his pajamas. He felt exposed. All that was covering his body was a thin sheen of nightmare-induced sweat and flimsy thin cotton pajamas. At any moment, he thought vaguely, someone could come for him. They could strike, snap, and the life could drain from his body. It was a terrifying thought---paralyzing, but all he could do to cope with it was let out a breath that he had been holding in. 

For a moment, he lifted his eyes to stare up at the moon. It was glowing, nebulous, hazy, and full looking despite it only being in the first quarter. A silver halo was cast around it, and oh, how ethereal it looked. How beautiful it looked. And then, looking up at it, Hinata felt sick. Its beauty didn’t belong. He felt strongly as though something as tranquil as the clement moon shouldn’t be shining above such a place of disgust and... _ despair.  _

Hinata cringed at the word that his mind supplied, and somewhere, in the back of his skull, a sickening, shrill giggle began to bounce around. It raced to each edge of his skull and sent a wave of mild pain through his brain. He frowned, swallowed, and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants. Then, flicking his eyes from the moon to the ground, he began to walk, watching his feet as he moved slowly. 

Every one of his muscles was wound thoroughly with a certain tightness that made them ache heavily. Hinata inhaled deeply, then exhaled, but his body still felt as though it might shatter at any given moment. And he was trying so hard, which was possibly the worst part of this all. He was trying so hard to be strong---for everyone, but also himself, he supposed---but it was  _ hard _ . Hard not to cry, hard not to wake himself up screaming, sweating, choking on the thick, clouded,  _ disgusting  _ air around him.

Sometimes, he wished that he didn’t have to be the strong one. Sometimes, he wished that he could be the one breaking, cracking, too fragile to smile or look at the wrong way, but things never worked out that way. Vaguely, he wondered if things were easier that way, but then his thoughts were cut off as the salty air of the ocean filled his lungs, easing some of the tension from his body. 

The sea had never been too fond of the sea before all of this shit had started, but recently, he had been able to find comfort in it, especially at night when terrors plagued his mind too much to let him get any rest. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore was pleasant, and the salt smell burnt his nose and lungs a little, but he couldn’t say that it was anything but pleasant.    
  
As Hinata’s eyes focused on the scene in front of him, he saw something that made his heart leap and pound in his chest a little harder than it had been before. Someone. It was  _ someone _ . And he was too far away to tell who, and honestly, he should’ve turned around and padded back to his cabin, trying his best to go unnoticed, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t go back to that dismal place and close his eyes once again, letting images of pure horror play behind his eyelids. 

So, as stupid as it was, Hinata continued forward until the shape of the person became something that he could recognize. 

“Komaeda?” he questioned softly as disheveled white hair, highlighted gracefully with delicate strands of silver moonlight, came into view. He took a few more steps forward, keeping his eyes trained carefully on Komaeda who had yet to regard him in any way. “Can I sit?” The question was useless, though, as Hinata had already begun to sit down on the last bit of grass that there was before the terrain bled into sand, into the shore. 

Finally, Komaeda turned and flashed Hinata a polite smile, his eyes closing as he did so. “Ah, Hinata. I was just leaving.”    


As Komaeda began to stand up, Hinata moved swiftly and grabbed a bit of the fabric of his navy green jacket, balling it up in his fist. He tugged on it a little, his eyebrows knitting together. He didn’t know Komaeda all that well, didn’t like him all that much from what he did know, but he didn’t want him to leave. And not for any discernible reason, either.

Komaeda was odd and awkward to be around. Mostly, he was soft and polite (not including the rare times he babbled on psychotically in a disjointed way about things that Hinata didn’t understand; things that he probably never would), but there was something off about him that Hinata couldn’t pin down---couldn’t figure out. On the outside, he was mostly reserved, but Hinata could tell what a tangled web he was. It made him hard to approach, and the other classmates all agreed; they tended to avoid him. 

“Stay,” Hinata said firmly as a moment, and under the light of the moon, he could see glittering tracks of tears cascading down Komaeda’s pale skin. He looked like a ghost, then, an apparition unable to cross over into a more peaceful plane of existence, tragic and hurting. His white hair was a messy halo above his head and his pale skin was breathtakingly white. And yet, despite all the clear pain written across every inch of his face, worked into every expression that he made, he smiled and laughed a little. 

“If it’ll please you,” Komaeda said, his voice thin and airy. He sat back down, placing his hands tentatively on his knees and bowing his head so that his hair fell over his face. 

Silence fell between the two for a couple of seconds. Hinata had yet to let go of his jacket. A few waves crashed against the shore and then rolled away, foaming up then dissolving back into the sea as if they had never even been there to begin with. 

After a moment, Hinata turned to Komaeda, staring at him with tired yet observant eyes. They roamed over his skin, over his high cheekbones and parted, chapped lips. His eyes were lowered and he was staring at something in his hand. Hinata’s gaze followed Komaeda’s and to his surprise, he was holding a daisy. His hand was gripping it tightly, and he was blinking away tears. 

Finally, Hinata let go of Komaeda’s jacket. “Are you okay?” he asked, turning his gaze back to the ocean. Another wave dissolved away. 

Silence fell between them once more, and Hinata frowned. He had never seen Komaeda in such a state before. Usually he was erratic and hard to pin down, but now, sitting here, he was quiet, collected, and crying. Hinata couldn’t decide if he was uncomfortable or not with this new characterization of Komaeda, but he supposed that that didn’t matter all too much now. He had already invited Komaeda to spill his guts; he couldn’t back out at this point. Especially not after he had asked him to stay. 

“Do you think it’s beautiful?” Komaeda shifted his body a little so that he was facing Hinata more. With a thin hand, he pushed the daisy that he was holding forward, towards Hinata, looking at him with such earnestness that Hinata just didn’t understand. 

He failed to see how this all related to his question. 

“Or is it…” Komaeda hesitated for a moment before he continued, “Futile compared all the rest of the flowers?  _ Useless _ ?” His pale green eyes flicked up to meet Hinata’s, and his eyebrows were pulled together, knotted into something tight. And for once, Komaeda was quiet, ready to listen to whatever someone else had to say and take it all to heart. 

And then,  _ oh, okay _ , Hinata understood. 

He swallowed, carefully taking the flower into his hand. For a moment, he studied it. A large portion of its white petals were missing. There was only one leaf on it, too, and that had been significantly chewed through by bugs. Hinata looked at Komaeda, holding his gaze softly for a second before he shook his head. “It’s not useless.” 

“It’s not?” the white haired boy questioned, looking genuinely surprised by the conclusion that Hinata had come to. “W-why not?” 

“Well,” Hinata began. “You can tell it’s been through some stuff.” He rubbed one of the soft petals between his fingers for a moment, considering his words carefully. Komaeda’s eyes were weighing heavily on him, and it was almost amusing how much he was clinging on to what Hinata was saying, like a child listening to a fantastical story. “But see,” he dragged his index finger up the stem of the flower. “It’s stem is strong and green, still trying it up towards the light of the sun. In fact, I’d say it’s  _ more  _ beautiful than all of the other flowers. It’s been through so much, and it’s  _ still  _ trying to feel that warmth.” 

“Oh.” Komaeda replied, considering this. “Okay.” 

“Here you go,” Hinata handed the daisy back to him, their fingers brushing as he did so, and he hadn’t even noticed how close the other boy had been to him, leaning over his shoulder with no regard to personal space, too interested in Hinata’s justification of the seemingly inane object. 

“Not useless,” Komaeda considered aloud. He blinked, and his eyes burnt with exhaustion and tears. “I should go back.” 

“I’ll walk you,” Hinata offered, which made just as much sense as him asking Komaeda to stay in the first place. 

The walk back to Komaeda’s cabin was mostly quiet, and the whole time he was clutching the daisy in his hand as though it was a lifeline, playing Hinata’s words over and over in his mind. The cool, damp grass on Hinata’s bare skin caused him to shiver, which pulled Komaeda from his reverie. 

“Are you cold?” he questioned. 

“A little,” Hinata admitted, giving him a small, lopsided smile. After that, the two grew silent once more, and Hinata took the time to study Komaeda again, the odd creature that he was. Usually, he was so forgein, but tonight he felt like something that Hinata could understand. Something that he could reach out and... _ touch.  _ And, was it bad that he sort of wanted to? That he sort of wanted to brush his fingers against Komaeda’s cheek and see if his skin was as cold and lifeless as it looked? Or maybe tangle his hands in his hair. Or---

“Hinata?” 

Hinata felt heat rise to his cheeks, but he was hoping that it was too dark for Komaeda to notice. “Um, yeah?” he replied awkwardly, clearing his throat a little. The night was beginning to make less and less sense. Why was he  _ thinking  _ those things--- _ god. _ He needed to go to sleep. 

“We’re here.”    
  
“Oh, right.”    
  
“Well,” Komaeda pushed another one of those typical polite smiles onto his face, “thank you for walking me.”    
  
The blush on Hinata’s cheeks was darkening as each second passed and, god, he needed to get away from Komaeda because things that he didn’t understand were happening, and he didn’t like  _ not understand _ , especially in situations like these, on weird islands, in the middle of killing games. 

“No problem...I---” Hinata let out a tense breath. “Komaeda?” 

Komaeda blinked, his eyes going a little wide. “Yeah?” 

“Stop being so hard on yourself, alright?” 

For a moment, Komaeda seemed taken aback, then his cheeks dusted with a pale pink colour. Then, he smiled. The expression was new, different, and  _ warm.  _ “Right.” He said, awkward and unsure of himself. His eyes fell back down to the daisy. “I’ll---I’ll try.” 

And it didn’t make much sense---the whole night, that is. Asking Komaeda to stay, hearing him out, the fluttering that was erupting in his stomach. None of it made any sense---not to Hinata, at least---but he couldn’t say that he was too shaken up at the way that things had unfolded. He liked the side of Komaeda that he had seen, liked that his hard edges had become blurred and soft, liked how he was willing to listen and be vulnerable around Hanita in ways that he usually wasn’t. 

“Good.” Hinata replied firmly, and he almost didn’t want to leave, but he had to, so he did, but not with images of Komaeda humming throughout his mind. Not without the feeling Komaeda’s fingers brushing his own, or an odd warmth spreading throughout his stomach. 


End file.
